


A Different Kind Of History

by Tat



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, F/M, Kid Fic, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-05-15
Updated: 2011-05-23
Packaged: 2017-10-19 12:50:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/201031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tat/pseuds/Tat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Historical AU Duke Kenneth Huchinson was returning to his beloved in Vienna when tragedy hits his home, desperate to save his child he must travel to distant Wallachia to seek the help of gupsy David Starsky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kenneth

**Author's Note:**

> Betaed by the wonderful Prolixious...... The most amazing and patient beta in the multiverse..... Lyxie, my friend, I don't have the words to thank you....

 

 A DIFFERENT KIND OF HISTORY

  
_By Tat_   


Book One: Tempering

 **  
**

## **  
Part one: Kenneth   
**

**  
**

Duke Kenneth Von Hutchinson looked out of the train window and contemplated his life. His father had given in. He was only returning to Vienna to pick up Gillian and their child. Then they would return to Berlin for a short and secret ceremony and then go to England to receive her father’s blessings. They could even stay there for a little while before they decided where to go next.

They were dreaming about Montmartre since they were children but they had to think of Richard now, even a year after Napoleon’s fall it was still not safe. That big fat slug of Bourbon was so revolting that he was going to have a revolution on his hands in no time. Surely it was not a place to raise a child! But wherever they went, they were going together!

The trip was long and tiring so he couldn’t help but close his eyes and contemplate the last twenty years of his life. They were the only two thirds of his life that mattered. And they mattered because in the majority of those years Gillian was in some way in his life. 

It had not always been that easy for them. Since the first day they met, both at the young age of ten and she being the natural daughter of their host Lord Ingram, he had felt a connection for that studious, serious, blonde girl, who shared most of his interests. 

So he had asked his father, who always told him that he was meant to grow up and do his duty towards the family, whether he could do that duty together with his friend Gillian. His father simply stared at him for a moment and then turned away.

It was his mother, later that night, who explained to him that no matter how noble Gillian and her father were, it didn’t change the fact that her mother had been an actress. She was therefore not fit to be the wife of a descendant of the Frederick the first and nephew to the reigning King Frederick William the second.

That was the first time Kenneth used the word unfair for something that was not only about himself, neither was it the last. Fortunately his parents didn’t pay much attention to his interest in Gillian, as they found him too childish to mean anything seriously. So he had happily spent many of his vacations from school in her company, hers and her cousin’s Jack Mitchell, heir to the Earl, and his fellow student at Eton.

But the things changed over the years. As he was getting older he discovered that Gillian wasn’t just his precious friend and sweetest, most intelligent companion but also the most beautiful woman on earth and he finally realised the meaning of Jack’s ruthless teasing over the years. He was in love!!! 

He had spent a whole year in school before he found the courage in himself to confess his feelings to her, but nothing could prepare him for the delight and happiness when she shyly admitted she felt the same!

The kiss, and the summer that followed it, were made from the staff of dreams. Walking in the rose gardens in the moonlight, wild horse’s racing in the countryside, and endless quiet hours in the library, all that accompanying sweet kissing and shy caressing the second that they were alone.

But even in the madness of his feelings he held back. She was going to be his wife; it was unfathomable of him, to not respect her, and dishonouring her in their families. Even if would have confirmed their wedding. He regretted that, later. 

At that time, he returned to his last year of school, leaving her with the promise of their marriage, within the following of the end of his schooling. And then he had to spend the next three months blissfully unaware of anything but their correspondence, unsuspecting of the tragedy that was awaiting them.

In the third month after their separation Gillian’s letters abruptly ceased to arrive. No warnings, no breaking up, just silence! He was worried as hell and felt almost angry and betrayed, but his every other emotion was eclipsed in fear for her, as in all the years of their friendship there had never been such silence.

He was about to leave school, to figure out what had happened to her, when Jack’s frantic appeasing convinced him that there was nothing wrong at home and that he should wait for the anger of her father to wear off, and not disgrace her, by acting so immaturely, and not in slightest befitting their station. (He stopped talking to his friend for years after that fact.) 

So he once more sacrificed his heart in the name of honour, and waited. By late Spring he had finished his schooling with honours! (God only knows how he managed that! As sure as hell he didn’t have the attention!) But he was ready to face every dragon, her father and his included, to win her hand.

The reality was worst than his dreariest nightmare. Gillian had been married for almost six months, to someone named Albert Grossman, a rich bourgeois merchant, which by the words of her father 

 

  
_‘Would be able to treat Gillian in the way that she was raised and in honour’._   


 

In his angry exclamation Lord Ingram answered that he couldn’t really expect anything more from him than ‘Carta Blanca’, as his family would have never allowed more, and that his daughter was worth more than just that. 

In his vehement protest that the only thing that mattered was Gillian, and his parents could have him disinherited in their leisure, Lord Ingram just looked at him with pity and left him with a letter from Gillian.

The letter's content was strange to say the least. It had Gillian’s writing character, Gillian’s words and maybe even Gillian’s feelings, but it certainly lacked Gillian’s spirit. Her words burned his stomach in sadness and anger, but he was so blind with emotion that it took him three readings before realising what was wrong.

She was writing to him, in essence, that she loved him more than anything in the world, but as a woman, her natural place was doing her duty before God, by obeying her father, as a good daughter should, but that she would remember him for the rest of her life.

And that from a girl that had read Rousseau, Plato, Aristotle even Voltaire? Who admired Katherine the Great and wasn’t disagreeing with the principles of the French Revolution. 

Impossible! The only answer that he could think of was that she was asking for help in the only way that she could find. There was no way that her father could have read it. He would not have believed it! But her godmother, her aunt, they were so religious to the point it became funny. (It was years later that he had learned from her nanny Edith that her father had made her accept the wedding, else she would have destroyed his life because he would have been disowned by his parents.) 

But all that had taken place five months ago. There were a lot of things that could have happened in the meantime. Maybe she was even pregnant; he was honest with himself to admit that he needed to be sure that he could handle the idea of her bearing the child of another man before he could face her.

He could freely admit that he was jealous and angry, but the anger was aimed at her family, for taking her away from him, and her husband for having her. But he found to his relief that a child of Gillian was welcome, be it his, her husband’s, or the archbishop’s of Cadbury. In the end he loved her and that was that.

As for the rest, if his family disinherited him, good for them. Between Gillian and him they knew enough languages to travel in many countries and he was educated enough to find work anywhere he wished, he didn’t mind honest work. Maybe he could start to be worth something. And as for Polite Society and their tongues, they could drown themselves for all he cared. Only Gillian mattered to him.

He had found peace in himself about the matter. Now everything was standing at Gillian’s opinion and if she would follow him, even into exile, it was time to find her.

He looked for days. He looked with every means at his disposal but he still couldn’t find her. Weeks had passed before he found out that the Grossmans had left London for an unknown destination.

He despaired. His revolution against his parents now seemed empty. The only thing that fascinated him now was his studies. So he left for the University of Vienna to study diplomacy and he started to learn fencing and shooting in his spare time.

A true gentleman’s hobbies, really, and if he truly wished the company of a lady, he had discovered that the ballerinas and the demi-mondaines were most accommodating. A fact no doubt based on his good looks, youth, family name and wealth.

He didn’t try to feel modest about it, nor to let that information affect him, because he knew that they didn’t think about him as anything more than a possible good conquest, or provider, they didn’t care any more about him than he cared about them.

And if the romantic in him was crying for something more, he didn’t dare trust his heart again. In fact he didn’t trust anything; the idealist in him had been touched by the French Revolution but the bloodshed and the descending in such a short time in an empire had disillusioned him back. The only thing he had truly left was his devotion to his small but glorious country, Prussia. The rest was just meaningless.

That was the state of affairs three years later. He had embraced his career into the diplomatic corps, with his value opening him more paths than his noble blood, when Napoleon’s attack changed his opinion about the finest service that he could be offering to his country. 

He resigned from his position, as attaché in the embassy of Russia, and returned home. He found it was as he had feared, and much, much worst. Nevertheless he fought till the bitter end in Jena and Auerstedt and he was among the few that covered his King in his fleeing. 

He was rewarded, far more than he deserved. After all, he was just a devoted soldier protecting his King. Yet as the King had not seen it this way, he was named Ambassador, and he had the honour of being among the ones that worked on the terms in the Treaty of Tilsit.

It was more than an honour, it was a sacred duty. To protect the interests of his country, in that dismal time of their history, but it was also a heavy cross. He was twenty five, had just barely finished his studies, and he was completely inexperienced and frightened beyond belief. If he made a mistake the whole country might pay for it.

He was right. They lost half their country. But instead of banishing him, the King continued to favour him and he planned to send him to France 

 

  
_even_   


 

 

  
_after his failure._   


 

He took it upon himself to do his best, but it was in times like these that he hated being related to his sovereign. 

However before his responsibility to his country he had to face another more personal obligation. A duty of his existence he had all but forgotten. His father had recalled him home in Konigsberg. His mother’s heart had started failing her, after the hardships of the war. Her last wish was to see her only son marry the young lady that had kept her company during the last days of her life.

He had not seen his mother in years; the last time they spent time together, he was still a child, but he'd always held her in his heart, he could never say no to her.

The bride that his mother had chosen, Countess Vanessa Von Chiller, was as different from Gillian as fire from air. Beautiful too, but when Gillian was blonde Vanessa was dark haired and had the most startling green eyes whereas Gillian’s eyes were soft blue.

But the main difference between both women was personality wise. Gillian was studious, Vanessa was coquettish. Gillian was a dreamer; Vanessa was a ruthlessly ambitious one.

He had finally understood why his father had ordered him to marry her, putting her French emigrant mother and small dowry aside; she was the type of woman who could help her husband in his career. He had already been dragged into marrying her when he discovered too late that he didn’t like this type of help.

It was in their wedding bed that he discovered the other side of love. Not even the most famous courtisane had ever made him feel that way and Vanessa was his, truly his. And if the blood in the sheets was not exactly convincing, she was his wife. What good would it do if he insulted her? She was as old as he, not a little girl anymore.

And even if it troubled him he wanted to please her and he did everything in his power to do just that. Be it career wise, jewellery wise, or boudoir wise. Too bad, that the only thing that they were agreeing upon, and she was not complaining, was the latter. 

After a few years of marriage, he had finally got more confident in his work in France and had started having some positive results, his life started to change once again. His new life was full of challenges. He was representing his defeated country in the Emperor’s court and that was tricky by itself when Vanessa started interfering in his work even more than before. 

That was not a problem. The problem was that her advice had started sounding more and more like the Austrian positions. He didn’t have any personal grievance against Ambassador Metternich. On the contrary he found him rather charismatic, but he couldn’t help but finding his positions quite archaic. History was writing itself every day, they couldn’t stay in the dark ages forever. Not that the positions of his county were differing that much, but still!

It was some ambitious attaché that had mentioned oh so innocently that he had seen his wife returning with prince’s Metternich carriage after some tea... He did not appreciate the information, and he let it be known, but his eyes had finally opened and soon he found out the whole truth. His wife was Metternich’s mistress.

He was more than enraged, he was furious. During the four years of their marriage he had been religiously faithful. He knew that most men in his position had more than one mistress. He had made a point to spend his every spare second in her company. How did she dare complain?

He confronted her immediately. She acted like nothing happened, like he was the one to be wrong, like everything was normal.

Trying to keep his composure he smiled sardonically and pointed out that even Brittan ladies didn’t take a lover before they had given their husband an heir. She sweetly smiled at that and answered that she would be happy to do so.

It was the last straw, he come a breath away from hitting her, but he controlled himself just barely and left her with the promise, that it would be a cold day in hell before he would do that. He never came near her bed again.

He had gone immediately to his desk to write his King and plead to being granted a divorce when he remembered his place. He was an ambassador; he couldn’t let his personal problems affect the already difficult position of his country. More than the scandal -Prussia was secretly allied with Austria- he would not destroy his country’s hope out of outrage. 

When he was recalled he would get that divorce. His anger to Vanessa had gone stone cold; he didn’t hate her, he didn’t want to hurt her, he just wanted her out of his life immediately. It didn’t matter when he could get the divorce papers. It was over.

Metternich contacted him the next day and tried to make amends, offering him information to soothe his pride. For his country’s sake Hutchinson accepted politely. In his heart he wanted to break the bastard’s teeth or even better, to shoot him and abandon him in a random place to die. He did his duty, but it would be years before he felt clean again.

He completely devoted himself to his work. Soon he heard rumours; some secretary in the Ministry was selling secrets. He couldn’t help but try to investigate. And what a surprise! The same ambitious attaché could introduce him with an invitation to one of Monsieur’s Grosse’s famous soirées. 

It was more than a surprise, because the woman he saw at the side of his vaguely disgusting host was Gillian!

He had tried his best to forget her, or else he would never have been able to go on with his life. Even after he had met her nanny during his trip to France, and had finally found out the true reasons of his beloved’s wedding, he had convinced himself that it was too late, he was married, and it didn’t matter anymore. It had been all lies; he knew that now, in all those years, he had never stopped loving her, not even for a moment.

She was also shocked to see him, but she covered it immediately. She let her husband introduce them, while her eyes were begging him to leave.

He followed her example in pretending but he endeavoured to figure out the reason of her charade.

He was mildly surprised when Monsieur Grosse or more precisely Mister Grossman ordered his wife to accompany him at his table, as he was the honoured guest. It was certainly not the way of Polite Society.

Then he sat and started observing the other guests. They were diplomats and people of power. All of them knew him. Most of them he despised. Every one of them had a striking young woman at his side, none of them their wife. 

He glanced at Gillian again; her head was down with her cheeks burning in shame. He looked more closely, her dress was so sheer it was nearly indecent, and so low cut that it resembled more the elegant gown of a courtesan than that of a lady.

He battled down his instinct to cover her with his cape.

Meanwhile they had been served the wine. Uncomfortable with his realisations he tried to hide his feelings behind his glass.

Her delicate hand and her terrified whisper stopped him abruptly.

“Don’t drink, please. Pretend that you do, but don’t touch it.

He did as she said and soon the reason was more than apparent, since the other guests were acting more like the patrons in a certain type of house than guests of an officer of ministry. He smelled his glass delicately, opiate. 

 

  
_How charming_   


 

. 

But he could certainly understand now why Grossman could maintain his position in the Ministry, even with his double crossings an open secret. It was a fact that state secrets were mostly leaked in an intimate setting than anywhere else, (

 

Vanessa was certainly an adept in that kind of persuasion)

 

and if you could put on a little blackmail you had the perfect trap. 

He observed Gillian in silence, she held her head high in wounded dignity, her lips had thinned in helpless anger and her little fists were white knuckled in desperation. 

She closed her eyes in humiliation but when, after a few seconds, she opened them back again, she had made her decision.

“Pretend that you are leaning on me, and come along.”

They left the party, pretending that they were lost in each other, but as soon as they were alone, they started to run until they reached the corridor behind the back door. 

Then she opened the door and ordered him out, with the poise of a true lady. “Go Kenneth, it is not safe here, not for you, and not for your associates.”

“I noticed.” he answered dry as sand, but not making a single move in leaving.

“Please Ken, it’s not only what you have seen here, he has connections with the Sicilian Camorra, he could truly hurt you.”

“Then how do you expect me to leave you here? If he could hurt me, I abhor even considering what he could do to you.”

“Leave Ken, it is too late for me, and it’s been too many years for you to care.”

“Like hell!” he calmed his anger and tried to talk reasonably. “Listen to me Gillian, no matter what you are not to me, the fact remains that you were and are my childhood friend. There is no way on earth that I will leave you to this…. (He controlled himself just barely but the words were not appropriate for his Gillian) ...place. And I can’t believe that you will let yourself in your fate. You are stronger than that.”

“You are right. I haven’t accepted it as my fate. I have finally managed to send a letter to Jack. He will be here in a few days. There is no reason for you to expose yourself, just go.”

“No my dear, I will not. If you prefer to stay here, so will I.” He shoved his cape aside showing her his gun. “I have a lot to settle with ‘Mister’ Grossman, for your honour and mine. I preferred to settle it elsewhere, but if you favour here, so be it.”

Gillian looked at him in horror and then she started thinking. He was able to pick her thoughts by looking at her expression. There were very few things he had in common with the bookish boy that she remembered. And that steel in his eyes seemed to reassure her as much as it scared her. She understood at last that he, in his own honourable way, was as ruthless as her husband, in his wish to protect her. She found some comfort in that and just nodded her acceptance of his plans.

Glad as never in his life, that she still trusted him, he simply covered her with his cape, offered her his arm and ushered her out of the house, into a new future unknown to both of them. 

He escorted her in his carriage. Both of them worried at what might come in their way. When they got there he almost had to laugh at her expression upon meeting his coachman.

“Hey boss isn’t a bit early for you to leave the party, and you brought a beautiful lady, how come?”

“None of your damn business, Hug.” 

He now truly had to laugh at how taken aback she looked by the exchange, not the reaction she expected by his upbringing and not something that she could ever imagine with her background. 

“I will explain.”

He whispered the directions to Huggy and then he started the story at how he had met that unusual man.

Huggy was from Africa but he had met him in Russia. He was an uncommon bearer who charmed the crowds because he danced with his bear. Huggy had saved his life in a riot in a village near San Petersburg. Some days later an idiot had shot the bear, at which point he had taken the man as his coachman in gratitude. He had never regretted it. 

Huggy was dedicated and more than a good driver, he was his orderly in the war, had saved his life more than once and had become his eyes and ears here in the Parisian streets. Huggy had incredibly grown to be the closest thing to a friend that he had at this time of his life.

After the explanations Gillian looked at him for a long time, and then she took his hand, smiled tenderly and whispered: “You haven’t changed. I am glad!!!” 

Then she remembered herself and recoiled visibly “I am sorry I've forgotten myself.”

He had to smile. “You shouldn’t be, I am not, and you haven’t changed either.” 

His words angered her. “How could you say such rave? Look at me.” He shook his head “No Gillian you haven’t changed. Your difficult experiences had maybe shaped you to some extent. And you may have matured a bit. But you are still Gillian. Your inner core is the same. Your soul is the same. And I love you the same!!!”

They both fell silent. He was shocked. Not of his emotions, those he know intimately well, but expressing that emotion, that was something different. He was trained since childhood in conducting himself with dignity. Discipline had been the rule all his life. Anything else was inexcusable.

“Forgive me I have no right.” 

She smiled sadly “If I were a lady I should be affronted, but as I am not, I can be selfish enough to indulge myself and be glad that you retained enough memories of that innocent time to keep me in some small part of your heart. Thank you.”

“You speak like an old lady, who is admired for the beauty she once was. Like I didn’t just grievously insult you, and you could easily come to believe that I am no better than your husband. I have just taken you from that horrible place and yet I dared to bring my feelings forward. You are under my protection, I shouldn’t have.”

Gillian laughed, really laughed “Oh Kenny only you! If half the men on the world had one quarter of your gentleness the world would have been a better place! It never even crossed your mind that I could have been the one who was using you to free myself from my dreadful husband. I could be exploiting your emotions for my own gain.”

“Not you Gillian. I would never believe that. You are too honest to ever do that to anyone, especially to me!”

“You are wrong Kenneth I have used people, I have hurt people and I have destroyed people. For the past nine years I have seen and have been forced to do things that would have you recoiled. I am dead inside Ken. There is nothing left from the Gillian that you once knew. Stay away from me before I destroy you too.”

“I don’t believe you Gillian. If that was true you would have latched to me and begged for my protection, not warning me away.”

“I may be trying to draw your interest. And where are we going?” 

The carriage had stopped. 

“We are in the house of Alice Douceur.”

“A courtesan? Appropriate! Is she your mistress? Oh forgive me. It is not my place to ask.”

“No she is not my mistress, just a friend who listens sometimes. If you don’t feel comfortable staying in a courtisane’s house I can take you to a hotel. I would have taken you to my house but it is also the embassy. I apologise.”

“I understand you can’t afford a scandal.”

He didn’t answer; he just took her to the house. Alice was as gracious as he expected. She ushered them into a room with the minimum of fuss. The room that she had taken them to was more comfortable than he expected. He couldn’t help but suspect that she had given Gillian her own room and was more than the perfect hostess leaving them alone. He felt a pinch of remorse. Another person in his life that he used as others used him. 

Gillian was looking strangely at him as he sat contemplating but when she had his attention she smiled sadly. “You can leave now Ken I will be all right. When Jack comes you can send him here.”

“I know that Alice will treat you like a sister, but I am worried about Grossman, what if he finds you? You said he had connections with Camorra.” 

That reminder was like frozen water for his beloved.

“Oh God, Ken I am putting Alice in danger, it is not right. Take me out of here, please.”

“Don’t worry I doubt that he will find us tonight, and tomorrow I will take you somewhere else.” 

“KEN!”

“You don’t have to worry, I will sleep somewhere else.”

“Ken, you idiot! You think that I am afraid about that? It is your reputation that I am concerned about!”

“You shouldn’t be. My standing is already tarnished. My wife made sure about that.”

“Oh dear! What did she do to you? How did she hurt you? You had never been cynic before.”

“You think that you are the only one who got hurt Gillian? You have no idea. I have been humiliated as you wouldn’t believe. I have been forced to be charming with the man who is sleeping with my wife, because my country is indebted to his, not to mention the deals that I had to make with other diplomats. Talk about dirty. I feel so ashamed most of the time.”

“At least you did it for your country; I have been forced to do reprehensible things with disgusting people. Oh God, Ken! I can’t stand it, how revolted you must feel toward me?” 

She was trembling now, but she was also trying to recover her composure. He took her hands in his. 

“Never, my Gillian! I could never be disgusted with you, you were forced. That man now, your husband, that man is more than revolting. His duty was to protect you and to cherish you. Not that… He will pay, my Gillian, I swear it to you on my mother’s grave. He will pay.” 

His words broke Gillian, at last, and she started crying. He could do nothing but hold her tightly, and encourage her to speak.

“That’s it my Gillian! Let it all out, he can’t hurt you here, I will kill him first. It is all over. You are safe. You can tell me everything. I want it. Let it all out, my Gillian.”

Little by little, emboldened by his whispered words, Gillian found the courage to open up. Her words disturbed him to his core. He had thought that he was a man of the world, but such corruption was well beyond his comprehension.

“Before I was married I had heard that my husband had made his fortune by bringing merchandise from the East. I had no idea what merchandise it was, I thought that it was silk. It was only after we left the country that I found out by accident that except the silk and jewellery he was also bringing girls and opium. 

I tried to get away, they caught me. It was then that my husband, whom so far I believed considerate, had let me see his true colours. 

He was incompetent, and he could find pleasure only when he was seeing me with others, or hitting me. The true project of the family was catching little girls and selling them to high ranking officials, after they drugged them with opium so they would not try to get away.”

That’s was it, he lost the battle with his stomach. He barely had the time to find the chamber pot. When he managed to raise his head, Gillian was holding him out a wet handkerchief. She had an expression of such misery that he felt his heart fall for her once again. 

But then she held her head high once again, and asked him defiantly:

“Now that you know what my reality was for the last nine years, are you sure that you are not disgusted?”

“I told you before: I am not disgusted with you, but with that beast husband of yours. I am going to stop him. I have to.”

Another thought crossed his mind and he froze.

“Gillian you must tell me, did he force you to take opium?”

“No,” she laughed mirthlessly. “He wanted me to suffer. But he was not the boss. It was his mother Olga Barisnova. That was the Madame. She is the mastermind of the enterprise.”

“She will be sent to the galleons, you have my word. Now tell me everything that you remember from his enterprises, else when I kill him, someone else will simply take over.”

They sat in the bed and talked late into the night.

When he opened his eyes in the morning he had to smile. Gillian was sleeping by his side. He hadn’t touched her and they had both slept in their clothes (which was more than a little uncomfortable!). But it didn’t matter, he was happy as never before in his life. Gillian was his, he could wait. 

He stroked her hair softly and whispered his vows. She was his wife now. No matter what the law or the people thought, that was the way that he considered her, and some day, after Grossman’s death, and his divorce, he was going to wed her and by the law. In Berlin’s cathedral, in front of his father and his King, with all the honour that she deserved and that had been taken from her. 

He understood better now her earlier comments. His beloved was disgusted with men’s touch and was incapable of thinking of it as pleasure. But it didn’t matter, they had time. Their past love was an excellent foundation to build upon. Someday she was going to come to him out of love, trust and desire.

He knew it.

He was a patient man.

He could wait...

===

The next few days passed into a blur. Gillian had reluctantly remained in Alice’s house, and he had put Huggy into spying on Grossman. Grossman’s men were dedicatedly looking for Gillian but with little success so far.

Gillian was both relieved to be out of Grossman’s influence and frightened that in the end she would be forced to return. He wanted to console her but it was too soon to offer her Carta Blanca, and truthfully it was not what he wanted for them. But most importantly Gillian was so terrified of Grossman, that she could refuse him to protect him from her husband.

It was too late for that, he was already involved, and he intended to personally confront that monster, except if his people were able to find proofs of his transgressions, and he was to be left to the law to deal with.

Not that it was that easy. His people so far had found a lot of hints of his depraved actions but his clients were in so high places that it was extremely difficult to find standing evidence. 

In the end he had only three options:

He could inform the police, but he doubted that it could have any result. He feared, and had reasonable valid reasons to do so, that the emperor, though a known enforcer of justice, was quite possibly the one who held the strings of Grossman, or rather more plausibly it was Barras.

He could as well be in disgrace, but he was also a friend of the ex-empress, and he had managed to keep his anything but modest fortune. Those facts were pretty notable, even without the unlawful hints in his connections. His people had been able to find enough. 

He could also let his knowledge slip to some clients of Grossman, and to let them take care of him, out of self preservation. It was a kind of neat solution, but if he tried that, it would leave a bitter taste in his mouth. Those men were no less guilty than Grossman, because it was their perversions that were giving Grossman his livelihood.

In the end the best option was to take care of Grossman personally. Even with as much as he preferred the law to take care of justice. Else it would be Gillian who would pay the price. The law was specific: at best she was unable to testify against Grossman, at worst she was going to share his exile. 

And yet something inside him was protesting the idea of him blatantly disregard the law. Even if everything within him was shouting it was justice.

The status quo remained as it was until Jack graced them with his presence. He was quite naturally still resenting his old friend and the circumstances that he had found Gillian didn’t help that matter at all. 

But Jack’s obvious regret that he felt for the mistreatment of his cousin and the heartfelt apologies that he made, had softened him somewhat, enough at least so that they could talk and plot about Grossman’s downfall.

The plot had been ingenious enough, (even though it backfired horribly), but at the time it was the best that they had.

Jack visited the Grossmans and told them that he had been looking for them a long time, as his uncle was worried, because Gillian hadn’t written to him for a long while. 

The Grossmans believed him, and told him that Gillian had died out of sickness. But they also invited him to stay with them for a while. Jack’s reputation as a libertine was widely known so they didn’t try terribly hard to hide their dealings. 

Jack played along, quite successfully, and it was not long before they stopped suspecting him all together. It was ridiculously easy for Jack to open the door for him, Huggy and a few others in the dead of the night. 

He should have known better.

He had just managed to corner Grossman and he was drawing his sword, when the foul smell of smoke and the cries of terrified women filled the air. Jack, the idiot, had set the house on fire.

Grossman managed to get away from him, but he had more serious problems to deal with. There was no way that he could leave those women in their fate, and so he, Huggy and the rest of his men took out every woman and man that they could find.

Thank God, the late hour and the smoke had taken care of his blond hair else the scandal would have been the least of his problems. 

Later on, after they found Jack, he was ready to hit him. Jack informed them calmly that he had taken care of Grossmans himself. And when he asked him why he had started the fire, he just shrugged and answered as a matter of fact that he was not going to keep proofs of his cousin’s dishonour.

He let his anger aside, but only because he understood that he had created another kind of problems. 

Gillian was free now, she could easily return to England, and to her father’s comfort. If he was honest with himself it was the best that she could do. There was no scandal attached to her name, her father was never going to leave her without protection and she was now a widow and so free to choose her future. If he was lucky, she could wait for him to go through his divorce.

He was ashamed to admit that he didn’t want her to go. It was more than possible that years could pass from now to the end of the war and his divorce. There were a lot of things that could go in the way of their reunion, even if Gillian wanted that. 

But his wishes didn’t matter when Gillian’s welfare was at stake. He was going to keep his thoughts hidden even if it was killing him.

He managed to keep his promise until the next day. But then he got a surprise that he never expected.

===

They were sitting in Alice’s parlour and they were discussing Gillian’s options. Jack was vehement that Gillian should return with him to London.

He poetically waxed about the life that awaited her back in her city. When that didn’t work he started talking about Gillian’s father and how he missed his daughter. But when Gillian remained unaffected by the fact, Jack tried to get him to support him.

He tried his best but he didn’t feel it, and his beloved was too perceptive to miss as much.

She patiently waited until he finished and then she gifted him with a tremulous bittersweet smile. “Ken, are you completely sure that I would be better off in London?” Her question hurt him, as much as the bullet that he had received in the shoulder in the battle of Jena. 

But he couldn’t lie to her. And he remembered, all too well, the way Polite Society dismissed Gillian just because her mother was an actress. No, better here, at least she was judged by herself. 

His expression told her everything she needed to know. She squared her shoulders. “I will stay.”

“But cousin, you will be alone here.”

“What is the difference from one monastery to the other?”

“But why into a monastery? You could return home with us?”

“The scandal is going to break anyway Jack. They were too many, those who know it. The further I am from father, the better for him. Trust me please.”

He had enough.

“Gillian, you don’t have to stay in a monastery. I will take care of you.”

She looked at him dead in the eyes. “Are you sure, absolutely sure?”

“Yes.” There was no need for another word.

Gillian nodded gracefully. “I accept.”

But Jack couldn’t hold his opinion. “Carta Blanca, I know that it would have come to that. You deserve better, cousin.”

He bit his tongue, at not responding him, as how better the match they had provided for her turned to be, instead he answered him with all his dignity.

“I, Kenneth Von Hutchinson, promise to you, Jacques of Mitchell, that I will respect and protect your cousin Gillian for as long as I live. After the end of the war I will divorce my current wife and marry Gillian. That I swear as a Knight of the Order of the Black Eagle.”

Silence!!! 

After Jack managed to find his voice he showed them the full height of his upbringing, and his caring of his cousin. He didn’t try to dissuade them mentioning the difficulties that were waiting for them in this course, or inform them that they were planning a social suicide. He simply held out his hand and answered. “I will hold you to that.” 

The days went flying after that. Before long Jack had left for England, and then he had to find the perfect house for Gillian. It had to be in a respectable district but not an aristocratic one, a comfortable home but not an extravagant one. Thank God, Paris was full of such places.

Hutchinson knew that if he was really planning to marry her some day he should try to visit her less often, but her presence was calming him of all his stress, and he ended up spending all his spare time in her company and with their books.

Not that he had touched her, he didn’t plan to. As much he wanted it, he was going to wait at last until their wedding, maybe even more. It was not prudence. Gillian’s experiences had been rather traumatic and he was hoping that when the time had come for them to become intimate, to be something more than mere duty for her. So he waited.

It didn’t help that after Gillian moved to her house she expected that he would make her his mistress, and she seemed okay with that. But it was impossible for him not to notice how she flinched to the most innocent unexpected touch. He held to his resolve.

As for his wife, in the beginning she didn’t notice a thing. She considered his leave as an expression of his continuous anger, and she didn’t give it much thought. Vanessa, for all her unfaithfulness, was expecting that he would break and return to her bed. She was disappointed. 

He didn’t try to take from her any of the privileges that came from her being his wife, neither tried to cut her generous allowance, he simply stopped going out of his way to please her. It didn’t go unnoticed. 

Even when Huggy, whom she hated, stopped working in the family’s carriage, she initially felt pleased to get rid of him. When she found out that he was still working for her husband, she put the numbers together and she certainly didn’t like what she found out.

She put a fight to end all fights, but after everything was said and done, the only thing that he felt was the need to laugh. What a delicious irony! What did Vanessa’s fury matter to him? He had his Gillian and their little house, which was far more a home to him than the imposing embassy.

Life went on, and before he could realise it, a couple of years had passed already. Gillian and he had gotten closer, she didn’t flinch to his touch anymore and their old familiarity was back. They were not lovers yet, but it had stopped being just an unattainable dream. 

Meanwhile his work started to get tricky again. The Emperor was planning his campaign to Russia. If he won there would be nothing in the world that could stand against him. 

But Hutchinson had lived in Russia, even for a little while, and he remembered the winters. The letter to his King was according to that fact. If everything went as he expected there was light at the end of the tunnel.

He was right. The Emperor lost for the first time in his life. Thousands of soldiers lost their lives in the frozen wasteland. (He was still inwardly winching with that.) But his country was finally going to fight for its independence and he was recalled from his position and to fight once again. He couldn’t help but be pleased with that.

Vanessa was of course going to stay with his father, but there was no etiquette for where he should leave Gillian. There was no way that he could leave her in Paris; it was too dangerous to even contemplate it.

That problem was solved by Jack, God bless his soul. With the first hint of war in the air he returned to France, with false papers, to take his cousin home. 

He was also considerate enough to leave them alone during their last day in France. He had no untoward intentions for her at the time. With the war in the immediate future, it would have been no less than pure lunacy. But he was not the only one who had a say in that matter.

He chose to spend his last night in France at her house. It was not, by far, the first time that he was doing so, but it was also something that he was trying not to. Not only to avoid a scandal attached to her name but because in the end he was just human, he could control himself only so much. 

He stayed late that final night and took his time to mentally farewell his life in Paris. Whatever might happen in the war his life here was over, and it was a good life in many terms.

He was slowly sipping his Porto in the library when Gillian came to find him. She was dressed in a sheer white night dress. Her long blonde hair was flowing on her back. 

He felt his mouth hanging open, he had never in his life seen her more beautiful. He opened his mouth to admonish her gently for her lack of attire in that cold and he found himself stuttering like the seventeen years old he once was, when he first confessed his feelings to her. 

“Y-You shouldn’t be up that late in the cold Gillian.” He tried to steady his voice. “You could get sick.”

She regarded him frankly. “I couldn’t sleep, my thoughts couldn’t let me.”

His tone firmed. “I know but you should rest. Tomorrow is going to be a trying day.”

Gillian took a deep breath. “Not without you.” 

He blushed to the tips of his ears. “I thought that we had decided that it was best if we waited.”

It was her turn to blush but she held his gaze. “So did I, but its different now.” She stepped closer to him and her hand rested on his shoulder, above his scar. “It is war, you could be killed.” Her tone held no agreements. “I won’t lose my one chance in this life to be touched with love.”

Whatever resistance he had left melted like it was nothing. “God, Gillian!” He kissed her like a man who found fresh water in desert. He then took her in his arms and moved swiftly to the next room and gently deposited her on his bed.

He looked at her taking his fill. Her blonde hair was mused, her cheeks blushed and her breath laboured. She was stunning. And His! 

He choked to the depth of his emotions. He thought that he knew everything about love. He clearly had no idea. 

They were both advanced in the boudoir arts. It had nothing to do with them at that moment. The only thing that mattered was them, their shared breath, their hearts beating together, her hands holding him like she didn’t plan to stop, his hands to hers. Their souls touching! 

He whispered the marriage vows to her, she did the same. They weren’t separate beings anymore.

They lost themselves to each other.

===

The next day was dark and cloudy, exactly like their mood. Gillian may not have held the title of a lady but she conducted herself with the dignity of one. Not a single tear escaped the prison of her eyes.

Jack just looked at them once, and then he found an excuse to leave them alone. They kissed desperately one last time, but by the time they parted there was not even a hint of scene, even if Gillian had to hold her hands to her back toward the end.

===

Lützen was hard on him. More than the bloodshed, the death of Gerhard Von Scharnhorst had hit him hard. After that he was swept through the battles, he hardly had time for anything except trying to stay alive. Even Gillian’s thoughts didn’t surface except late just before sleep. Still it was a huge comfort.

He fought, to the best of his ability, until he was wounded in Dresden. He survived the battle but his recovery was tenuous and he was barely good enough to fight in the battle of Leipzig. That had the unfortunate results of reopening his wounds in the worst way.

He had to stay in Leipzig to recover and he was unable to take part in any other battle. But when the news of his injuries reached Gillian she gave up everything to come and help him.

The surprise was so strong that his heart skipped a beat. It resulted to their first truly serious fight. Travelling was anything but good for a pregnant woman, and Gillian was very pregnant.

He was absolutely frozen with terror at the thoughts of the dangers that she had put herself and his child to come to him and she later confessed to him that his reaction made her think that he didn’t want the child. Truthfully it was anything but that. Seeing Gillian rounded with their child had fulfilled a lot of his dreams.

After he managed to calm her down, things got rather good for them. The owner of the inn that he was staying in believed him to be just another soldier and it was not difficult to believe that Gillian was his wife and they spent the rest of her pregnancy in quiet happiness.

Little Richard was born on January first. He was strong, healthy, and his Gillian got out the birth ordeal without damage. For once in his life Kenneth was utterly happy. 

He was now determined more than ever to get his divorce.

After the exile of the emperor, he decided that it was his time to act. He bit the bullet and took Gillian and their child to Berlin. He would rather spare her his father’s savage tongue, but his King was a kind man underneath and he was going to be more easily swaged to his cause after seeing the baby. 

The King was more than sympathetic but he was also pragmatic, and while he didn’t see anything wrong with Kenneth formally adopting Richard, he was also quite firm against the divorce.

He explained that quite patiently. It was not that he was not enraged by the dishonour that Vanessa had put to their House but Vanessa was Metternich’s mistress and whatever pull they had against him was God’s gift to them.

The Congress hadn’t gone in their favour so far and his King had new orders for him. He was to go to Vienna and help the other diplomats of his country and also allow Vanessa to play her game. 

He was absolutely furious but duty won over his reservations once again. Much to his surprise Gillian took the news much better than him and answered to his inquiries to why with such bitter wisdom that he was never going to forget her quiet but resolved explanations.

“I am sorry my love, I failed you. I should have pushed the King more.”

“Kenneth. No.” Her words rushed in. “If you insisted on the divorce and forced the King in granting it you could lose your position even your country, if he was angry enough to exile you. Are you ready to give up your career that easily?”

He hung his head in shame. “Not for as long as I could do some good for my country.” 

“Ken...” Gillian smiled at him. “It is the best thing that could happen to us, Ken.” 

Gillian’s tone held no uncertainty and he found himself almost hurt with the easy way she could dismiss his fondest dreams.

“I thought that you wanted to be my wife.”

“God, Ken you have no idea how much... You are such a dreamer! And I love you so for that. But it is an impossible dream. And in everything that counts I am your wife.”

He could do nothing but take her in his arms and kiss her shining hair. “I wanted to give you the protection of my name.” He wanted to give her the sun, the moon and the stars, but it was hardly the time to tell her now.

She took a step back and breathed deeply like she was preparing. It was obvious to Ken that she had put a lot of thought to what she was going to say.

“Ken with the way we are now I can stay in your shadow, and love you, and have no one to bother us. If you have gotten the divorce everyone would have started gossiping about it and they would start looking at me like I was worst than dirt. I am not sure that I would survive it.”

He didn’t have to try that hard to guess his father’s treatment. His heart hurt for her. He made his decision.

“I will not stay in the diplomatic corps forever. I am growing tired with the dirty transactions under the table. After the Congress is done I will find a quiet university to teach.” He looked stern. “Someday Gillian we are going to marry.”

She fell in his arms with tears. “Someday!”

===

‘Someday’ became their prayer during the months that followed. He worked as hard as he could and the results were slow but real. Privately he could even admit a bit of smugness in the pride that Gillian held to his work. But a true resolution, that was a long way yet. 

Meanwhile Vanessa had gone almost placid. It was not that surprising. She was anything but dense and it was more than obvious that their marriage was almost officially over.

In the summer of 1915 the Treaty was signed. His colleagues and he had made a fairly good work and they had taken back their land and more. Problem: Austria now held the seat of power.

Consequences: His King was very pleased with him and he made him an offer that he could not resist. That if he could take the ambassadorial position in Austrian court for a few years to try and undermine the Austrian power a bit then the King himself would support his divorce.

On one hand it seemed to him a quite dishonest deal, on the other so it was the whole diplomatic game, and he had served his country for almost ten years, it was truly difficult to stop now. 

But if he was honest with himself, and Kenneth always prided himself to be so, there was also a very dark thing in his psyche that he would immensely enjoy it too. That he was to be able to pull one over Metternich.

Gillian supported his decision without a complaint, and she seemed to enjoy their quiet life. Yet he couldn’t help but feel unease at how easily he himself accepted that double life. And he swore to himself once again that he was going to retire as soon as he had the chance.

===

He was six months into that stage of his life when Vanessa got gravely ill. It took him a while to take notice as they were leading separate lives, with his, all but official, living with Gillian. However all the rouge in the world couldn’t hide Van's deathly pallor!

The point was forced home in a formal reception. They were dancing, as it was their duty, when Vanessa lost consciousness in his arms. 

He called the doctor immediately, there wasn’t time for hesitations. He prayed softly as he waited, he had stopped being angry long ago.

The doctor’s verdict was shattering: Rapid 

 

consumption

 

. A death sentence with no way out. 

Following the doctor’s leave Kenneth just sat there trying to figure a way out from the labyrinth of his feelings. He looked at Vanessa's sleeping face. Except of the whiteness of her skin no one could guess the severity of her condition. 

Vanessa was an extremely beautiful woman and she was barely over thirty years. She was also vivacious and sharply intelligent, truthfully the last person that he could ever expect or wish to die.

He just sat there, by her side, he didn't know how many hours but finally Vanessa woke up. “God, I hate labdanum.”

If there was a thing that he always loved about Vanessa it was her sheer pride and guts. Even in those circumstances she was trying to keep control. But her eyes were telling something completely different and he couldn’t help but feel a wave of tenderness for her. He understood at that moment that he loved her, maybe not like Gillian, but he had loved her once.

“How are you? Do you want me to call to bring you something?”

Her green eyes were hazy with sleep at first but they sharpened as they focused on him.

“Don’t bother. Shouldn’t you be in the reception or, even better, with your little mistress?”

He reminded himself of her illness.

“My duty is with you. You are my wife.”

“Not for long. You will be free soon enough to marry your whore.” 

“You will never, ever call Gillian like that again. Do you hear me? Yes I want a divorce, not your death. You hear?”

His tone was so menacing that Vanessa looked terrified and just nodded mutely. She started crying miserably and something broke inside him. He stroked her hair.

“Shh. Doctor Weber is not the only doctor in Vienna, not even the best. We will ask another opinion Van, I promise, we will fight this.”

She buried her head in his chest. “Will you stay with me to the end, Ken? I am terrified of dying alone.”

“I will, I promise.”

===

He kept his word to Vanessa. His free time was equally spared between Gillian and Richard and with Vanessa. He spent his time with Vanessa reading her books, or even brushing her dark hair, one of his favourite intimacies of their early marriage.

That was one of the worst problems that were making his position so difficult. Vanessa’s insistence that they should try make their marriage intimate once again. 

He was also completely sure that for all her kindness in Vanessa’s condition that was the only thing that Gillian wasn’t going to forgive. 

He was truly dumfounded to the extent of her compassion but she had explained to him that her beloved mother had died from the same disease just a few months before they had first met.

That information had made him feel even worst but it had also kept him strong to Vanessa’s advances. He could never forget her last try.

Curiously, her condition had made her more radiant and her appetites more carnal. He had read in a book that the reason for that was the stronger blood flow but that didn’t make it easier to resist. 

He was reading to her, to lull her to sleep, when her hands had started wandering to his body, he had caught her hands into stopping her but she had put his hand to her breasts. All his blood had gotten to his head and he had started feeling dizzy.

“Ken,” She whispered passionately, “I still love you, and I made a terrible mistake then, can you forgive me and try with me once again?” 

Her dark hair was fawned to her pillow, her green eyes shining and vibrant. Her lips like luscious strawberries. She was like a vision from their wedding night.

It was only the view of the locket to her neck that got him to his senses, it was Metternich’s gift and he was well aware that he continued to visit her. Angry at almost betraying his beloved the words got out way harsher than he intended.

“I am sorry Vanessa, but even in different circumstances it is too late. You love another and I love another. Even if that wasn’t the case we are too different to make it. I am sorry.”

Vanessa’s lips thinned and went white. Her voice was frosty when she answered him. “I understand Kenneth, you have spend too much of my precious time in my company. You may leave now.” She turned her back to him and never talked to him again. 

Three days later she was dead. 

Her death hit Ken far worse than he expected. The reason for that was that he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was somehow responsible. That was pretty illogical and he knew it well but the feeling remained.

Gillian accepted his brooding silence for a couple of months but after that she needed answers. He discovered that he was ready to answer. He truly needed to get it out of his chest and when he faltered her tender caresses and some hard truths had him continue. 

After he confessed her his guilt over both his temptation and his refusal he felt clean again. Her light response helped much to that fact. Also the fact that she meant it: she understood completely well that he was a man, and while she could live with that, if he had touched his wife, she appreciated very much that he didn’t.

His overwhelming guilt lightened after that and he was ready for some decisions. His trip to Berlin was more than tradition. He owed it, to his King, to resign in person. 

He didn’t take Gillian and Richard with him. Even if his father wasn’t against the wedding, still he wouldn’t risk forcing Gillian to his verbal abuse once more.

But to his surprise the old dragon had finally accepted, and even explained that he really had nothing against Gillian. Gregory of Ingram was from his oldest friends, from the time he was himself an ambassador in England, it was only the scandal he was dead against. Now that he was widowed it was not an issue. Even his advice to lay low for a couple of years was sound.

He smiled softly to his recalls and discovered that he had slept for most of his journey. Huggy was waiting for him in the station and the sun had just broken into the sky. He was happy. 

The door to his little home was open and the house eerily quiet. He felt the fear gripping his insides and he run faster than ever in his life. Something was horribly wrong.

He didn’t have to go far into the house to spot the tragedy. There on the parlour’s floor, within the pool of her own blood was laid Gillian. 

 

 


	2. Richard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When everything is lost how do you protect the only thing you have left...

Part two: Richard

Kenneth felt like he was losing his mind. He stayed there, frozen, trying to comprehend this horror. There right in front of him was laid dead, everything that was giving meaning to his life.  
A small noise behind him broke him from his trance. He fell to his knees and then to her body, half crazed in search for the smallest life sign. He knew of course that it was useless. He had seen dead in the war, there was no way around it. But still his heart was unable to accept it.  
There was nothing there, she was gone. Her delicate neck was mauled like by wild animals. Hesitantly he touched a frozen cheek, and took a deep breath to find the courage to close her eyes. But a small cry stopped him cold.  
With his heart speeding in his chest he inspected even closer. There, covered by his mother’s body and the furniture lay his son. He was unconscious but alive.  
With all the tender care that he could master he moved Gillian’s body aside and took his son in his arms. He looked him over to find his wounds. But except a small graze to his neck, and his bloody clothes, Richard was unharmed. Gillian had protected him with her life.   
He embraced his son even deeper and felt a wave of guilt and terror wash upon him. He had almost lost Richard except for Gillian’s sacrifice. How could he forget his son, even for a moment?   
He got up on his feet.  
There was no time to deal with his overwhelming sorrow, even temporally. He had to think about Richard now, and there were things that needed to be done. A hissed breath got his attention. Huggy was standing behind him and looked ready to faint. He glared at him. If he was managing to hold himself together he was going to encourage Huggy to do the same.   
“Boss?” asked his coachman uncertainly.  
He didn’t have the time for compassion. If he lost it now he would be useless. “Just take him for a moment Hug. Please.”  
He didn’t want his son to wake up to this view, but he couldn’t leave Gillian on the floor either.   
Huggy opened his arms and Ken gave him the boy gratefully. Huggy was even kind enough to turn his back and give him time.  
He tenderly took Gillian to his arms and gently laid her on the sofa. He was still unable to call it her body. He looked at her face for a while, imprinting it to his memories. It wouldn’t be long now before he was left only with the memories. He stroked her hair and, after a last look, he closed her eyes.   
Steeling himself, he bowed to kiss her, one last time. But her lips were still pliable and he lost himself in a fantasy, that he could warm her lips and bring her back.   
The sound of running feet stopped his reverie and he raised his head just in time to see Huggy trotting to the door with the boy still in his arms.   
He caught up with them easily, but Huggy had already got out of the house and was standing waiting on the street under the sun.  
“Can you explain to me why the hell you ran off like that?” he asked Huggy, in a frosty voice.  
Huggy changed his hold of the boy’s and gently rubbed the crust that was covering the tiny wound. “Look Boss.”  
Hutchinson looked, feeling like an idiot, but it wasn’t like he could take the slightest risk with the health of his son. Huggy was right, there was something strange to the graze. Now in the sunlight he could see that the abrasion was formed from two small puncture wounds.   
“What the hell is that?”  
His bark had the effect of waking up Richard.  
“Papa.”  
He immediately took his son in his arms. “Are you okay Son?”  
“Hurts Papa.”   
He held his son even tighter.   
“Where Son? Where does it hurt?  
“My head and neck.” Richard started crying softly, he was too weak to cry out loud.  
“It’s all right Richard, I will take you to a doctor, Son, and you will be alright. I promise.”  
Kenneth squared his shoulders and took control of the situation. There was something really wrong with his son, far more than the wound would imply, and there was no time for his slight panic.  
“Huggy take us to doctor Vrocston.”  
“Aye, aye Boss.”  
He put the boy in the chaise and got in too, he had to close his eyes for a moment, he hated just leaving Gillian alone in there, but his son was alive and came first.  
In that moment of weakness he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Huggy.  
“Don’t worry Boss. After I take you and the little one to the doctor I will return and take care of everything. I promise.”  
“Thank you Huggy!”  
But he remembered Huggy’s reactions and his eyes sharpened. Huggy’s must known him pretty well because he smiled sadly and answered to the question that wasn’t asked.  
“After I finish ordering things here I will come back for you and I will tell you everything I know or suspect. Alright Boss?”  
Hutchinson thought for a moment to demand the answers now, but his trust to Huggy won over. He nodded his agreement.  
===  
Doctor Vrocston was really helpful, but he was also troubled. Richard’s blood loss wasn’t in accordance with his tiny wound. But he did what he could, cleaning the small injury and feeding him a rich broth and a quarter of a spun labdanum.  
He had also given specific orders for the kid’s diet. Liver and spinach, and more to that accord, so that Richard could get over his blood loss, except of his wound he was healthy.  
Kenneth felt almost light-headed from his overwhelming relief. He then proceeded to inform Dr. Vrocston about the circumstances that he found Richard and the body of his beloved.  
Dr. Vrocston was profoundly shocked for the violence of the crime and promised to keep quiet to avoid the scandal and to examine the body of his mistress.   
Kenneth felt more than agitated with the comment. Gillian was far more to him than a mistress, but he kept quiet for two reasons. First because in the end it wasn’t the Doctor’s business at all and then because he had taken everything he wanted from the Doctor and he were now anxious about the exam which would take place.  
He didn’t care that much for the scandal anymore but he wanted Huggy’s and the Doctor’s answers and some time to make his decisions before it became a matter of the Austrian Police.  
Huggy returned just in time to drive them home.  
Except moving Gillian’s body to the sofa the room was exactly as he had left it, and the doctor immediately started to work.   
He and Huggy got to the nursery, were they could keep an eye on Richard’s condition and remain private for their discussion.  
“What do you know Hug?” Kenneth whispered the question to his loyal coachman.  
“Not much Boss,” answered Huggy in the same tone. “Everything that I know is second hand and the rest is my speculations.”  
“Tell me Hug... everything you know... start from the beginning.”  
“Alright Boss.” Huggy took a deep breath and started talking: “You know Boss that I had a lot of friends in France, that’s how I’ve got the information that I provided you. There was one, among those friends, whom I’ve known even longer than I’ve known you. He was a Romanian sailor working for the French corsairs. He told me interesting stories about his home country...”  
“Huggy...” warmed Hutchinson impatiently.   
“Alright, alright Boss, I will continue. He told me that there are demons with human forms in his country, named Strigoi, which are feeding with the blood of the living...”  
He had enough. “That is superstition.”  
“That is what I believed for a long time Boss, but I have lived in the wilds, I have seen a lot of shit. After all you have seen the wound, it was from teeth. I didn’t imagine it.”  
“No you didn’t. Tell me the rest Huggy.”  
“Well... The Strigoi are night’s beings. The light of the sun or the fire can turn them to aches. But they can also turn someone like them by giving him to drink their blood except only taking it...”  
“Shit!” Kenneth was livid. He stood up and faced Huggy “You almost killed my son.”  
Huggy gulped up nervously, but stood his ground. “If Richard had been turned, then he would have been already dead. Would you have preferred it? Forever the age of two and a half, a beast, living by the blood of others?”  
Hutchinson covered his face with his hands. That was too much to even contemplate. “Oh God, No.” he almost shouted.  
“Forgive me Boss, but you had to know.” Huggy’s voice was soft now, apologetic. “There is more.”  
“Tell me.” his voice was now hoarse.  
“Your son was not turned Boss, but my friend had told me that the Strigoi kept some kind of control to those they feed upon. Richard may be still in danger.”  
“I see.” He sat there for a moment, thinking hard. “Your friend, tell me more about him Huggy. Do you trust him?”  
“His name is David Starsky and I trust him with my life. He left his country as a child because he was running out from the Turks. The last time that I saw him he was working for the Corsair Surcouf.”  
“Do you think that he would help us?”  
“David Starsky is one of the most honest, decent human beings I know; he could have easily given his life to protect a child. But I don’t know what happened to him after the battles.”  
“Then we are doomed.”   
“Not necessarily, he told me the whereabouts of his family, maybe they could help us.”  
Kenneth thoroughly thought about it. It was a very big ‘If’. To trust his son’s life to someone that Huggy trusted that much that was barely doable. To completely trust some unknown people, that was well beyond him. After all he was not completely sure that Huggy was right.  
“Papa, Papa.”   
He was at his son’s side in a flash. “I’m here Son.”   
“They were people with big teeth, they hurt Mom.” his son sounded terrified.  
“I know, I will never let them hurt you again.”  
“What about Mom?”  
“Your Mom is in Heaven with Grandma. I am sorry.” What else he could say?  
His son started crying in his arms, and he held him and softly sung until he fell asleep.  
When he raised his head and met Huggy’s eyes he was determined. “We are going.”  
Huggy was relieved by his choice and the doctor’s founding’s cemented his decision. It seemed that Gillian’s blood loss was too extended to be explained even by the pool on the floor.  
He was undergoing the preparations for the trip when Jack’s letter hastened his course. It was a disturbing latter to say the last.  
‘Dear Ken,  
I am writing from Romania, where I found myself for personal reasons, which are irrelevant at this time. I found myself in a dangerous crowd in which your wife Vanessa is playing a leading role. Hadn’t you written to me that she had died and that you were preparing to marry my cousin? I would have warned you anyway: the woman is dangerous, I can’t say more. Keep an eye on my cousin and my nephew. I have given her to you, don’t disappoint me.  
Ps. I know that you are as honest as can be, but don’t share the contents of this letter with Gillian, I don’t want her to panic.  
Your friend and hopefully your cousin in the future  
Jacques Mitchell, Viscount of Ingram  
1917 May fifteen Tirgoviste’  
God, if that letter had come to him a little earlier Gillian would have been alive today. But he wouldn’t gain anything by cursing himself now. He remembered the wide ribbon in Vanessa’s neck. How much of it was the sickness and how much the demon’s influence? How long did she plan the attack? He didn’t know. But what he knew was that human or demon, Vanessa was going to pay.  
Every answer was waiting for him in Romania.  
===  
Preparing their trip and avoiding a scandal turned out to be easier than he expected. Having already resigned his position helped a lot, also the doctor had held to his promise to keep silent. Besides Huggy had started spreading the gossip that he was suffering from the same disease as the late Vanessa. Kenneth had a very bitter laugh about it. But all in all it did the trick. They were able to leave Vienna without hustle within the week.   
As their trip was still taking them within the Austrian empire they had the fortune of travelling in relative comfort. He also opted out about a nanny for his son. Not because he was irresponsible meaning his care, but because they were heading out to danger and one more person incapable of protecting herself in their company would mean more a danger to Richard than help. He and Huggy were more than capable to look out for Richard themselves.   
The travel had also gotten him emotionally closer to his son as he now had his whole, day to day, responsibility. He wasn’t anymore the semi remote figure of afternoons only, he had to take care of him constantly, and that was good because even though at first glance Richard was all right during the day, he was always crying at night and asking for his Mom.  
Kenneth could do nothing when his son was crying, but hold him, sing to him and pray that the boy would someday forget. The entire experience was breaking his heart again as surely as Gillian’s death had. But he was going to protect his son with his dying breath.  
It was summer and so they managed to reach the town of Tirgoviste in less than a month, for which he was grateful, as his son wasn’t doing so well with the travel’s discomfort. Now they were here at last and it wasn’t difficult at all to find Jack as the small town only held one single Inn.  
Jack came to see them around noon at the inn. Ken was surprised to notice that his friend was walking like an old man as well as the more strange fact that he was dressed like some kind of priest.   
Anyway his friend wasn’t prepared for the sight of them, especially Richard’s, whom he hadn’t seen since he was but a few months old, because he lost his entire colour. He trembled and he would have fallen if he hadn’t held his balance against the wall.   
Kenneth was at his side in a second and steadied him.   
“She is dead isn’t she?” Jack’s voice was hoarse.  
Kenneth closed his eyes to shield the pain but it wouldn’t hold any purpose to withhold the truth. “Yes, Gillian is dead. I couldn’t protect her. I am sorry Jack.”  
Jack crumbled to his arms like dead weigh. “Not you, me. My sweet little cousin is dead and it’s all my fault.”  
Kenneth’s voice was even gentler than before as he answered. “No more than mine. Even if your letter had reached us sooner I doubt that I would have been able to protect her. Whatever these things were they are not human.”  
The words that he uttered for Jack’s comfort held no positive result. Jack continued to cry in his arms and he mumbled over and over. “My fault my entire fault.”  
Kenneth had enough. He steadied Jack and met his eyes. The guilt in there was too vast to be the simple result of a delayed letter, whatever the consequences. There was also something strange with Jack’s head but Kenneth couldn’t put his finger on it.  
He turned and met Huggy’s eyes. The silent order was direct: ‘Take Richard, go to the room and wait for me.’ Huggy was nothing if not swift minded, he was gone within a second.  
Ken returned his attention to Jack. Steadily he led his friend to one of the tables, and ordered beers. After they drank some of the brew and Jack’s colour somewhat returned, he calmly asked:  
“What did you do Jack?”  
Jack met his eyes once, written misery clearly in his, then hung his head and started talking:  
“Ken, do you remember the night that we attacked the Grossmans?”  
“Yes, but I don’t understand what it has to do with today.”  
“I will explain, but let me do it in my own way.”  
Kenneth remained silent and after a while Jack continued.  
“I mean it, what I told you that night, I didn’t plan to let standing even the slightest hint to tarnish Gillian’s name. Yet as I was ready to execute those vermin, one of their clients stepped in my way. He ordered me to let them be and not to talk about it with anyone. There was power in his eyes, Ken. I could do nothing but obey.”  
“And you let them go?” Kenneth’s control was holding by a single hair, but it didn’t break. He needed answers.  
“Yes. Ken there is more...” Kenneth nodded slightly. Jack gulped and continued.  
“I met him again in Vienna, where I had come to meet Richard. He was the secretary of a very important banker and his name was Eduard Bates. I was already depressed by then as my doctor had told me that I was dying, Hydrocephalus. Mr. Bates had told me that if I could follow him then I wouldn’t have to die at all.”   
Hydrocephalus... yes that was explaining the slight swelling of Jack’s head, but that didn’t forgive his behaviour. That revenge was years in the making and Jack had known enough for some time. He had simply allowed it to happen as he had chosen his life over Gillian’s. Kenneth had had enough.  
He forced him to stand and the next second he was sending his fist into Jack’s jaw. Jack stumbled half way across the room and then he fell to the ground.  
“You bastard!” he shouted to the top of his lungs. “You selfish bastard, you are right, it was your neglect that sent her to her death. I should kill you myself.”  
Jack didn’t react much to the verbal abuse, he simply curled on himself and he stayed where he was on the ground, completely pathetic.   
Kenneth felt the first stings of pity inside him, Jack was dying anyway. He put his justified anger to the side, for a time. He just stood in front of Jack and offered him his hand, to help him rise.   
Jack looked warily at his hand for a moment but he accepted it and allowed Kenneth to get him back to the table.  
The other clients looked disturbed by the violence and the inn keeper came to ask them to leave, but a glare of Kenneth’s was enough to sent him back to his bar.  
“Tell me the rest.”  
Jack pulled out a handkerchief and swept the sweat on his face. But the steely look on Ken’s face made him hasten to continue.  
“The last thing I wanted was Gillian hurt but I couldn’t speak. Bates’s eyes held power, some kind of compulsion, I couldn’t do anything but obey, believe me Ken, please.”  
Seeing that Ken wasn’t going to answer Jack started talking again.   
“I followed Bates here to Romania. And then I discovered how much he and the others of his coven were not humans anymore. He wasn’t even the master. But the Grossmans were following him, he had made them like him.”  
Jack stopped to gather his wits. His colour was pasty but he managed to continue. “The old bitch, even though she didn’t look that old anymore, was fond of the blood of small children; she was hunting them and torturing them for days. I couldn’t stand it, better a thousand deaths. I ran away and find succour in a monastery. I have been living there ever since.  
“What about Vanessa?” Kenneth tone was deceivingly calm. Inside he was sheathing with rage toward the monsters that had destroyed his life. Better to stay composed and to gather as much information about the enemy as he could.   
Jack gaped at his collected tone. There was only one explanation to that calmness. “You know, you know about the Strigoi...”  
“It doesn’t matter Jack. Tell me about Vanessa.”   
“How...?”   
His icy stare reminded Jack that he wasn’t forgiven.  
“Vanessa, unlike anyone else in the coven, wasn’t made by Bates. Her maker was the Master himself, I don’t know him but from whatever anyone in the coven had to say he is pretty powerful...”  
Kenneth became lost into his thoughts. Could the master be Metternich? Unlikely, he had seen the bastard to the light of day, during Vanessa’s funeral. Too bad, he would have loved the chance to set him on fire.   
“Ken...”   
Distantly he became aware that he had stopped paying attention to Jack.   
“I didn’t hear you Jack, would you mind repeating it?”  
Jack looked irritated but some of the spark of life had returned to his eyes. “I said that I don’t know for certain who was behind the attack. But before I had the chance to write the letter, she had left the coven with Bates and the Grossmans. That’s how I found the guts to leave the coven. Forgive me Ken.”  
“I forgive you, you did the best that you could under the circumstances.” answered Kenneth absentmindedly; he had a lot more problems than Jack right now; he had to find the way to kill Vanessa, the Grossmans and Bates. The safety of his son was depending on it.  
He sat up to leave but Jack’s hand grabbed his arm.  
“Don’t leave yet I want to talk you about something else.”  
“Okay.” (I don’t have time for this).  
“I heard that you petitioned your king into adopting Richard. Is that true?”  
“Yes I did, I planned it that way so that Richard could be able to carry my name and inherit from me, as my planned marriage to his mother couldn’t be anything but morganatic. Now that Gillian is dead there is no other way, but it could take years before it’s done. That’s the law.”  
“I have a better idea.”  
“What?”  
“Let me adopt him first.”  
“What...” Kenneth blinked. But now that Jack had started there was no stopping him.  
“The adoption laws in my country are a bit easier, and I will be dead in less than a year. It wouldn’t stop you from adopting him. Uncle Gregory would be devastated to learn Gillian’s death. Let me make it a bit easier for him. Please.”  
Kenneth was speechless. He had no idea that Jack cared so much. In the end the only thing he managed to say was, “I’ll think about it.” and Jack’s smile brighten the room.   
He was indeed going to think about it. He was never going to say that to anyone, but he could admit, privately to himself, that Gregory of Ingram had at least been an easier parent than his own father.  
===   
The next day Kenneth and Huggy started the motions that could help them to contact the Starsky clan. David Starsky had given specific directions in the case that Huggy would ever found himself in his country.  
His clan was a nomadic one, always travelling between the Hungarian part of Romania and the Turkish one. The only way to get in touch with the clan was with the help of an old woman with a pigeon farm. What everyone didn’t know was that a fair number of those pigeons were carrier pigeons.   
It wasn’t difficult to find the old woman. Doamna Lustina, as she was called, was much older than he was expecting her and scary like a fairy tales witch.  
She wasn’t so keen to help them but she liked Richard and as Ken exposed their problem she got out of her usual ways and decided to support them.   
As he was watching the pigeon flying away he almost forgot the guilt he had felt when the old woman had scared his son.  
Doamna Lustina apparently got an answer later that day, as she sent a child to deliver them the message that they were going to be her guests the next day for lunch.   
Certainly he didn’t expect such fast results.   
Doamna Lustina’s roasted pigeon for all its simpleness was almost good enough to be served to his King. But Kenneth still felt cheated as she shared no news with them. That opinion rapidly changed as he considered leaving because he heard a specific noise.  
He and Huggy left the house to investigate and they soon saw a man astride a horse galloping like mad toward the house.   
The rider jumped off its back and opened his arms, laughing, as he embraced Huggy like a brother.  
Kenneth had the chance to discreetly observe the newcomer, presumably David Starsky. He didn’t look anything like he expected a gypsy to look, but then again he didn’t agree with his peers’ opinions about black people so it was safe to firmly put aside any presumptions he still held.  
The man was dressed in black slacks and a black coat, his long curly hair was held back at the base of his neck. Not too refined in appearance but not looking like a ruffian all the same.  
The man took notice of his staring and stared back. Kenneth found himself in front of the most honest strong gaze he had met in his life. The stranger’s eyes were dark blue and sharp as a razor. Kenneth had the strange impression that those eyes were judging him, not just on his appearance, but also on the kind of man he was.   
For the first time in his life Kenneth found it almost difficult to hold the gaze of another man. He had nothing to hide but those eyes were simply too intense not to feel even a little uncomfortable. Only his pride made him keep staring back.  
He understood then Jack’s word meaning about how powerful Bates’s gaze were. If the sun wasn’t that far in the sky he would truly start having doubts about what exactly this man was.   
But then the gaze lost some of its intensity like he had passed some kind of test and he had the chance to evaluate the other man himself. There was kindness in those eyes, sharp intelligence and above all honesty. Instinctively he knew that while this man was quite capable of being a predator he was far more comfortable being the protector. He had the strange feeling that he had finally met his equal.   
Finally Huggy’s cough interrupted their mad contest. They both looked aside and took a deep breath to calm their nerves. Huggy acted like there was nothing curious about the exchange.  
“Boss, may I present to you the nostromo David Starsky.”   
“Starsky this is my Boss and my friend Kenneth Von Hutchinson.”  
“Monsieur Starsky.”   
“Monsieur Hutchinson.”   
They shook hands and Kenneth had again that bizarre feeling of equality. Who the hell was this man?  
“Please Monsieur Hutchinson, if it’s not offending to you, call me Starsky. I am used to that by the ship, or...” he smiled devilishly. “Would you prefer me to call you Your Excellency? You are a Duke after all.”  
Before he had the chance to answer to that Huggy interfered looking almost pissed.   
“Starsky, my brother, please stop that. I have told you before he is not just my boss, but a close friend as well.”  
Starsky signed to that. “I understand that Huggy, but in the letter you asked to bring him to the clan. I have to know what kind of man he is before I dare to do that.”  
“I understand.” Huggy sounded almost chastised.  
“Cut it Huggy! You know that I trust you with my life, but this is the clan.”  
Curiously, the banter lightened Hutchinson’s heart; he felt a weight leaving his shoulders. This man understood about responsibility and he was protecting his tribe. He was someone that he could trust the safety of son with and not to be left down.  
He also had to interrupt that discussion before it became so heated that he couldn’t convince the man to help them.  
“Please nothing like that Starsky. I am travelling incognito. I would prefer if you called me Kenneth or even Ken. If you are going to help us it would be insulting to call me anything else.”  
“Alright Kenneth it is, even though it is still a mouthful, you are too masculine to be called Ken.”  
Kenneth had to laugh at that, even though he felt like blushing. “Thank you, I do not particularly like the name Ken, but I am used to it by my family.”  
“Then I am honoured that you offered it.”  
They had reached the small stable and Starsky started to take care of his horse. Huggy volunteered of course but Starsky stopped with a smile and a shrug.  
Kenneth wasn’t put out with that. He was used to do the same, after a ride, and although Starsky didn’t seem to usually have another choice; his dedication spoke well for his character.  
When he was done with his task Starsky washed his face and hands in a bucket of clean water. Finally they were ready to head for the house.  
Starsky gallant as a French aristocrat kissed the hand of their hostess and complimented her. “Doamna Lustina lovely as ever, your late husband was a lucky one.”  
Much to his surprise the witchy woman blushed and giggled like a young girl.   
“Shame on you David Starsky, I am the same age as your mother.”  
It was obvious that they knew each other well. It reminded Ken of his relationship with his nanny. Maybe she would want to help him with Richard. But it was not the time for such thoughts now.  
Doamna Lustina found the supplies for coffee and offered them. Strange how she never offered them before! But it was finally time for business.   
“Thank you for coming to help us. I was unaware that you had returned.”  
“I returned after the war, but I haven’t agreed to help you, yet. First I want to find out what the hell is so important that you had to travel here to Wallachia to request my assistance.”  
Kenneth gulped, but he - the diplomat - couldn’t find the words that would mean the security for his son. Instead he got up and showed Starsky his son, who was sleeping in a cot.   
He stroked his hair and the boy changed side giving them a glimpse to the twin scars to his neck. Starsky gasped and Richard woken up a bit.  
“Papa?”  
“Shh Son, sleep.”  
“Yeah,” Starsky couldn’t help but add. “Sleep, little one”.  
Richard changed side again, as he fell asleep once more, but before that he mumbled. “I’m not little; I’m two and a half.”  
Starsky laughed to the mumbled answer but it was obvious that he was shaken badly. They returned to the sitting room.  
“Okay, tell me who did this to the kid and I will stake him for you. I am hunting a Strigoi anyway.” said Starsky without preamble.  
“I can’t simply let the hunt to you. They killed my beloved. It is too personal. I want your help, but it’s my hunt.”  
“I can’t take you with me, Blondie. You will get me killed too. Tell me the name and I swear I’ll dust him. You have my word.”   
“I am not that fragile I can take care of myself.”  
“Okay, Blond one, prove it to me. Outside:”  
He nodded his approval and they got out. They drew their swords and started duelling.  
Kenneth was good in this art but Starsky was something else. Maybe it was because he was using the Italian school art, which used sword and knife, but it was impossible to win over him, he, who had never lost to a duel.   
The battle held out for a long time, he was finally sure that he was managing to wear his opponent down, when Starsky’s sneaky move effectively ended the duel, as he got the knife under his neck.  
“That was impressive Blondie!!! If it was only the Strigoi I would take you with me no questions asked!” Starsky’s tone held real admiration as well as regret.  
“What else?” Kenneth was mighty irritated now. He was sweaty, exhausted and hurt in too many places to count. But he had to admit that the other’s honest admiration soothed his pride a bit. Starsky was the best opponent he had in his life.  
“I can’t take you to the clan. You will end with a knife in the ribs as you sleep. You look too much like an Austrian and they had suffered too much because of them. I am sorry.”  
“That is a load of shit. I don’t even like Austrians and you could tell them anything that you like.”  
“You are right!” Starsky smiled dangerously and grabbed his hands. “Mmm, not too soft, for someone working on a desk! I‘ve got an idea. Duke Kenneth Von Hutchinson would have never been able to set foot in the clan’s camp, but Hutch, the French soldier, is more than welcome. What do you think?”  
“I would have accepted any terms to protect my son and to bring justice for Gillian’s death. I think that I approve my new name!”   
They started walking back to the house.  
“Fair enough, Hutch. Tell me your story.”   
“I returned from a trip to Vienna and found Gillian with her neck mauled, murdered and my son bitten. Huggy told me the stories you had shared with him. So I came here to find help. Jack, brother Jacques, witnessed my supposedly, dead wife in the company of two, also supposed dead, criminals and someone named Bates who is apparently the leader of the local convent.”  
“That is very trusting of you Blondie.”  
“I don’t take the safety of my son lightly.”  
“Bates is not the Master, he is the second in command and he is very dangerous, I’m not sure if he is the strigoi that I’m after but I will help you anyway. A question though, are you completely sure that your woman was dead and not turned?”  
It had never crossed his mind that Gillian could somehow survive her ordeal, his heart fought between hope and revulsion. “W-was any chance that she could have been t-turned? Her neck had been cut from side to side.”  
“When they turn they stay dead for about three days. I don’t suppose that you staked her? That could have made sure that she wouldn’t return.”  
“S-staked her?” He feared that he was going to faint, the idea that he could violate her like that was more than repulsive. “There were so much blood and none inside her.” he whispered.  
Strangely enough Starsky baked off. A warm hand rested heavy on his shoulder. “She probably wasn’t. I never heard of it happening after messing this much with the neck.” the gruffly voice turned compassionate. “Sorry to lay all that upon you, but it is the way of the clan, when someone is turned the spouse or a family member takes care of the problem.”   
Hutch nodded his thanks. But he was still trembling like a leaf, time to gain his balance back. “You are hunting strigoi. Why?”  
“They took my wife.”  
Huggy’s heard the last part of their conversation and he was stunned. “They took Terézia? Shit. Your happiest days in Paris were when you got one of her letters.”  
It was Starsky’s time to get pale. “I don’t know, but I pray to God that I will find her alive.”   
Starsky rested his forehead to the wall and Hutch thought he heard “My poor sweet Terry.”  
“Is there even a chance for that? Being alive I mean?” Huggy was sounding oddly awkward.  
“I didn’t find her body as if she was drained and sometimes they take and keep the women alive for a long time as they found their warmth pleasant.”   
Hutch found himself filled with compassion, I was more than obvious that Starsky cared a lot for his wife and in light of the tradition of his clan it was more than possible that it was going to end in tragedy.   
It was his turn to put his hand in the other’s shoulder and offer him his strength.   
Strange, he knew the man just a few hours and he already felt the need to comfort him, he wasn’t expressive by his nature and this need to ease the pain of the other man’s came quite as a surprise.   
“We are two now, we will get her back.”  
Starsky collected himself. “Thanks Hutch. But if it is to come along you better be ready tomorrow at dawn.”  
Hutch couldn’t help but respect the other’s self control. “I will.”  
“Good.”  
“Wait a moment Boss. Hutch?” Huggy couldn’t help but ask.  
“That is my new name here Huggy. Learn to use it.”  
“Okay Boss. Sorry... Hutch.”  
In their way back to the inn Hutch started thinking, he liked his new name. It provided him with a sense of freedom that he never dared dreaming of before. But it wasn’t that thought that deepened the crease between his eyebrows, far from it.   
The thought that had frozen his inwards with terror was the same one that had plagued him since he had started that mad crusade. -The safety of his son-. Only now that worry was much, much more specific.   
Tomorrow he was starting the hunt to serve justice for Gillian’s death and as much as his instinct was not to lose Richard from sight he knew that it was all but impossible to take him with him during his journey.   
The monastery of Dealu had been more than a relief as the information he had gathered for Jack and Starsky both suggested that his son would be more than safe in there, as the strigoi were incapable of setting foot in holy ground.  
The problem was, as much as he understood that Jack didn’t really had a choice in the matter, he was never going to wholly trust him again. And so he was incapable to completely let his son to his care.   
The solution was more than apparent but it was also making him feel bad as Huggy had followed in his crazy quest, more like a friend and less like an employee, he didn’t feel right ordering him about it.   
Still, there wasn’t anything else he could do right now. The faster he talked with Huggy the better. They had to make the arrangements with the monastery and there were only a few hours left until sundown.   
“Huggy?”  
“Yes, Boss?” Hutch’s expression must have been pretty cross because Huggy looked almost apologetic. “Okay, okay, Hutch I got it…”  
“Sorry Hug, but I really need to get used to that name.”   
Huggy smiled, “And you are worried as hell that you have to let the kid to the monastery.”  
“You are right about that. Huggy I need to ask you a favour.”  
“No need to ask Hutch, I will stay in the monastery to take care of the little one.”  
“Thank you Huggy, but I feel bad that you won’t have the time to talk with your friend, and we are headed for danger.”  
“No need to be troubled about that Hutch, Starsky had survived too many hardships not to be able to handle that one. We will have the time to talk later, don’t worry.”  
Hutch remembered the tone that Starsky had used when he talked about his wife; it was more than apparent that the man loved her very much. He tried to put himself in Starsky’s place, being forced to kill Gillian himself. The pain to his heart and soul was excruciating, he wanted to curl up on himself and die.  
However strong his new friend seemed to be there was no way that he could survive this intact. His conscience couldn’t stand the guilt and he decided to make one more try.   
“He is going to need you now, Hug, especially if he is really forced to do what he told us. I won’t blame you if you come with us.”  
Huggy thought hard about it and in the end he let out a bothered sigh.   
“God knows how I would have loved to help him with that. But Starsky’s not going to like it if I come along. He will remember my teasing from every time he got a letter from Terry and it’s going to hurt more. No, better here, I’ll make sure that Richard remains safe.”  
Hutch felt his neck getting raw and he didn’t know if the feeling behind it that was compassion or gratitude but the more acceptable of the two was the latter.  
“Thank you Huggy. I appreciate that.”  
“Don’t mention it Hutch. But keep an eye on him, okay?” Huggy’s voice was almost rough on the last words. And he took them to heart.  
“I will, I promise and I will make sure he gets out of it intact.”  
“Thank you Hutch.” And Huggy was out to prepare the carriage.  
Funny, he had known Huggy for more than five years and he had been the closest to a real friend, yet this was the first time in all their years that he felt equal to the man. And it had nothing to do with his changed name.  
===  
The arrangement with the monastery went easier than he expected. Jack’s vouch for them and a few gold coins in the abbot’s hands had been enough. Hutch should have been expecting it. Dealu was not exactly the richest place. But he wasn’t complaining about it. If it paid him the safety of his son and Huggy’s he would have paid a lot more.  
He hugged and kissed his son goodbye and his heart was broken when he was forced to unclench those little hands around his neck. He told his son that he was going to leave only for a short while but his little boy continued to cry inconsolably.  
It wasn’t like he didn’t understand his son. It didn’t matter at all what he had told him, the only thing that mattered to his boy was that only a few short weeks after he had lost his mother he was losing his other parent as well.  
The only thing that could console Richard, was either that he didn’t leave at all, or his return, anything else was just words. Hutch was hurting so much by his son’s pain that he came a breath away from giving in and taking him along. Only the memory of Gillian’s body and the stories that Jack told him of the old bitch kept him strong.   
Finally Richard fell asleep again and he was able to leave. The only thing that he found some consolation in was the fact that even if he didn’t survive his son was going to be safe here. It wasn’t the life he wanted for his son but just in case he’d fail he had written three letters, one to his father, one to Lord Ingram and one to his son.  
The first two were almost identical and contained his account about Gillian’s demise and his trip to Romania. It also contained his last will. And the explicit orders that Richard was to go to a school belonging to the church, but he wasn’t allowed to take the vows before his majority.  
The last letter was to be given to his son after he reached an age when he’d be ready to decide for himself. The decisions for his life were inevitably Richard’s. The least he could do, as his father, was to give him the time to make those choices.  
He mounted his horse and ran, as the sun was cracking, to meet Starsky and hopefully to right some of the wrongs that had happened to the both of them.


End file.
